


and with this romantic atmosphere, disaster's in the air

by peradi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack, M/M, bb-8 is a little shit, communication wins out in the end, poe dameron is a little shit, sweary droids, sweary robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 10:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peradi/pseuds/peradi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stop being busy -- I don’t care if you’re nuts-deep in Human Finn -- you have to <i>listen to me</i> and <i>tell me where you are</i>.”</p><p>“Stop being so needy!” squawks Poe. </p><p>--</p><p>Poe and Finn are blissfully in love. BB-8 is jealous. Rey intervenes, because her boys are <i>idiots</i> and it all goes very, very wrong. </p><p>(Spoiler: there's a happy ending.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	and with this romantic atmosphere, disaster's in the air

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to 'do not take love advice from sweary robots'. i'm never going to get tired of this.

  
"So," says the prim, proper CP-30 unit -- red-armed and aged -- his eyes luminous, his movements stiff and speaking of generations of repairs. "You are a BB-8 unit?"  
  
"What a stupid question. I'm _the_ BB-8 unit," beeps BB-8, before adding (as an afterthought): "Bitch."  
  
"Goodness! What language! How _shocking_ , in a young droid--"  
  
"We aren't all programmed with a stick up our memory ports," trills BB-8, wheeling around, spinning his visual-input around to get a better look at the joins between arm and body. "That's a shoddy job. Whoever did it must have been as high as bantha-dick."  
  
"I beg your pardon --"  
  
"My Designated Human has wandered off without me. His name is Poe Dameron -- he is small and handsome and awesome, and his hair is brown. Where is he?"  
  
"Ah. Ah. So your Designated Human is Mr Dameron? That explains much."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" says BB-8, his electro-prod sticking out in open threat.   
  
"Goodness! So aggressive!"  
  
"Are you insulting my Human?" says BB-8, wheeling back and forth in frustration, seconds away from shocking the other droid. Sparks crackle down the prod. "If you are then _step the fuck outside_ and tell it to me _like a man_ \--"  
  
"We _aren't_ men," CP-30 reminds him, gently. "And it is clear that you have been improperly raised! Mr Dameron has left you acting like..." CP-30 waves one hopeless golden hand. "Well, like him."  
  
BB-8 withdraws the prod and spins around joyfully. "Nothing wrong with that! Nice talking to you Grandad, but I've got to go and find my Human. He's useless as a sugar-snap dildo without me."  
  
"He's...you have very singular language ports," says CP-30 Red Arm.   
  
"Thanks!"  
  
"That was not a compliment --" but it's too late; BB-8 is rolling off, earth sinking beneath him. He prefers the forest worlds to the desert ones; sand gets everywhere, into ports and cracks, and plays fuckery with his internal calibration. Of course, he can work on sand -- he’s the best droid in the history of droids; he works well on everything -- but he prefers clean, hard soil.  
  
Of course, the damp also plays fuckery with his circuits; but he is well water-proofed. Human Poe takes good care of him.   
  
  
  
\--

 

BB-8 has located his Human Poe! Human Poe is in Human Finn’s -- previously known as ‘coat-stealing fuck’, previously known as ‘shit-eating illiterate twat’, previously known as ‘possibly untrustworthy First Order cumbucket’ -- quarters, and they are wrestling. 

No. Wait. They are having sex. 

Poe is on top of Human Finn and making low, groaning sounds. Finn is answering with high, clean cries that are almost pain but not quite.

He trills distaste. “Human Poe, you will not leave me without telling me where you are going.”

Poe ignores him. His hips flex. Finn  _ mewls _ . 

“Hey fucktits, come on,” beeps BB-8, “stop being such a nerfherding shitheel and talk to me.”

Poe’s head snaps around. “BB-8! Bit busy!”

“Stop being busy -- I don’t care if you’re nuts-deep in Human Finn -- you have to  _ listen to me _ and  _ tell me where you are _ .”

“Stop being so needy!” squawks Poe. 

“Hey, don’t be a dick,” says Finn. He props himself up on his elbows, peers over his shoulder. “BB-8, we’re a bit busy. Do you mind coming back in an hour?” 

“An  _ hour --” _

“--two hours, if that’s okay.”

“Just tell me where you are next time, dickfuck,” says BB-8. 

He doesn’t move. 

“BB-8, please leave.”

“Why do I need to fuck off? Am I putting you off? Your genitals are still functioning effectively, I can see that.”

“Stop looking at my dick!”

“I do not understand why now is a bad time to examine your genitalia -- I’ve done it before.”

Finn coughs laughter. “Why has he been looking at your dick? Do those long flights get  _ really _ lonely?”

“I --  _ no-- _ ” Poe rolls back off Finn, tugging the blanket around his waist. “I had a strange...thing, okay? I was worried that it was --something.”

“Atraxian syphilis,” chirrups BB-8, “otherwise known as junglecrotch, otherwise known as the ‘Black Dick’ --”

“Stop it! Stop mentioning Black Dick! Stop talking! Go away,  _ please _ go away.”

“Hey, BB-8! Got a mission for you -- go find Rey and give her this. It’s  _ really really important _ . Really important.”

Finn shoves a memory stick towards BB-8. BB-8 hesitates for a moment, then grabs it. 

“Will deliver. This is very important, you say?”

“More important than anything. More important than the time you had to check Poe’s cock for...things. Uh, can I just check -- did he have anything?”

“Finn!”

“Human Poe did not  have anything wrong with his penis.”

“Get out! OUT!”

“Fuck you,” BB-8 says as parting, and wheels away. 

 

\--

 

“Human Rey, I have been instructed to deliver this to you by the Human Poe-Fucker.”

“Have you changed Finn’s designation again?”

“He is taking up too much of Poe’s time. They are fucking. Again. Do they never get tired of it?”

Rey Human sniggers. “No. Apparently not. I don’t quite get the appeal really --”

“That is a  _ lie _ , Rey Human.” BB-8 likes Rey. She has only ever been designated Rey Human, or Friend Rey. She is his  _ favourite  _ human -- apart from Poe Dameron, of course, but of late he finds he prefers Rey. Rey is _constant_. Rey is  _reliable_. Rey is  _there_. And when she is not there he understands, because she has other matters, whereas Poe is only meant to have matters that include  _him._  “You _do_ like the appeal," continues BB-8, trilling and chattering, "I can tell whenever you see that Pava-thing fly.”

“Oh dear. Is it that obvious?”

“That you’re wetter than --” BB-8 stops. Rey is giving him a Look. He beeps an apology. “Only to me. And possibly BB-7, but she’s useless.”

“Do droids get crushes? Because you talk about BB-7 a  _ lot _ .”

“Because she’s an idiot!” BB-8 shrills, and flings the memory stick into the mud at Rey’s feet. “I’m going to find Human Poe. He could be in distress.”

“You know he’s not in distress!”

“He’s  _ ignoring me _ ,” wails BB-8, suddenly, spinning around to face Rey once more. “That banthasucking  _ cock  _ is ignoring me, and I don’t like it, and I don’t like being thrown out of our quarters because Finn Human is there, and I don’t like Finn Human ignoring me, and I don’t like not being with Poe Human.”

“Oh  _ sweetie _ .”

“I love them and they’re ignoring me!” BB-8 squeals, rocking back and forth in distress. “The  _ cunts _ \-- the  _ fucking fucking -- _ ” Coherence fails him. He stutters and squeaks, miserable and soft, and Rey kneels to embrace him. He rolls onto her knee; she grunts in pain at his weight but doesn’t shove him off. 

“I love them too,” Rey says. “And they love me; and they love you. It’s just...they need time.”

“Poe is my Designated Human. I was made to be around him. It’s in my programming.”

“Well. One thing I know about programming is this: you can always change it if you don’t like it. Look at Finn.”

BB-8 thinks of Finn, formerly coat-stealing dickmonkey, previously maybe-trustworthy First Order cumbucket, and chirrups, soft and hopeful. 

 

\--

 

“No,” says Threepio, “no -- aboslutely not --”

“Don’t be a dick,” says R2. "Of course you can hang with us, little one."

"Don't call me little one, dickbrain."

"Fuck yourself," R2 bleeps back. "I'm doing this as a favour to Rey -- she's a dreamboat, isn't she? -- so shut your speech-portal before I  _shock it into the outer fuck-off-o-sphere_."

"That's not a thing," BB-8 says, but there's a note of hero-worship in his beep. "Is that a thing?"

"That is not -- R2! Stop corrupting the young!"

"BB-8, learn the ways of the independent droid, you will," coos R2. This doesn't seem to suffice so he adds: "Stop being a whiny needy little bitch, you will."

BB-8 is in love.

 

\--

 

R2 transfers maps of the entire solar system to him. Threepio teaches him how to bleep binary in such a way to open doors. R2 teaches him five new swearwords, and Threepio almost weeps in despair. His strange red arm hunches towards his face when he gets upset, and BB-8 chitters amusement. 

"What're those droids doing? Hey -- mind giving me a hand."

Snap waves a spanner in BB-8's general direction. 

Then he  _snaps his fingers_. 

"Do I  _look like a dog you **motherfucker**_ \--"

Snap squeals, and runs.

BB-8 chases him with utter, utter glee, electro-prod buzzing.

Poe's not here to stop him. He can do  _anything he wants_. 

 

\--

 

"Dude, your droid just tried to kill me," Snap says. 

BB-8 coos agreement. "Fucker deserved it."

"Yup," R2 chimes in, "he was a rude fuck."

 

\--

 

" _What have you done_ ," Threepio says to Rey. 

If droids could cry, he would be weeping. 

"They are  _plotting against me_ ," he says, wringing his hands.

"In all likelihood yes. But look how happy BB-8 is!"

\--

 

Five hours blur by before Finn and Poe emerge from their nest of sex and shame to find Snap and Threepio sharing a bottle of what looks like engine oil, one Resistance tent on fire (with Rey trying to beat the flames out) and R2 and BB-8 shocking each other while a blue and white ball droid bleeps unhappily at both of them. 

Jessika Pava runs up to them, soot smeared on her face. "Make it stop," she says. "I think you've infected the droids with sex."

" _What_."

"R2 and BB-8 are fighting over my droid."

"The shit one?"

"BB-7 is not shit!"

"We are  _not_ fighting over BB-7," squeals R2, digging his prod firmly against BB-8's outer casing. "I simply remarked that the Designated Human of BB-8 was neglecting his duties --"

"--you called Poe a bantha-fucking slutbucket!"

"Yes, I did. Because he is! He's being  _terrible_."

"He's  _my Poe!"_

_"Yes!_ And he's not treating you like his droid, is he?"

"I am a strong independent droid and I don't need him! Rey said that I could rework my programming!"

"That doesn't mean that he gets to be a dick! You shouldn't be so fucking dependent -- but he needs to stop being a cockmunching arse and actually  _listen to you_ _! He needs to **validate your feelings**_."

"Wait!" Threepio lurches to his feet. His mouth is slick and black with oil. Snap's passed out next to him, in a state of possible-death. "You dumb shits!  _Talk to each other_."

With this, the droid collapses. 

"Timber," bleeps BB-8, sarcastically. 

R2 shocks him. 

 

\--

 

"Right. I feel that BB-8 isn't letting me and Finn develop as a couple."

"I feel that Poe's a cock."

"BB-8 this is about  _conflict resolution_. Luke taught me about it. Say how Poe makes you  _feel_." Rey's holding her staff. She means business. 

"...like he's a cock."

"Oh for  _Force's sake --"_

 

"Fine! I hate it when they act like they don't need me. I hate it when they vanish. It makes me think of...of Jakku, when I thought that he was dead."

"BB," says Finn.  _Bleeps_ Finn. His lips purse, and he whistles in Droid, and his accent is shit-creek terrible but it is the thought that counts. "BB, I'd never leave you."

He presses his palm up against BB-8's outer shell. BB leans against the contact. 

"Me neither," Poe whistles -- and his accent is  _even worse_ but that doesn't matter, that doesn't matter at all, because he's apologizing and he's  _here_ and he's  _Designated Human Fucktard Dickmuncher Finn's Poe_ and BB-8 sings out his new name with utter glee, and Poe looks despairing. 

"Poe for short?" he suggests. 

"I make no promises, dickbreath."

 

\--

 

Compromise is key.

" _How is this a compromise,_ " whines Poe. "I can't have sex with my droid watching."

"I'm powering down," says BB-8. "Work around me. I don't mind."

With this, he rolls into his favourite spot -- pressed against Finn's chest -- and shutters himself down. Finn's arms knot around him. 

"I hate my life," says Poe. 

 

"Don't bitch," Finn says. "We're just going to have to fuck in the showers a bit more. Now go to sleep."

Poe huffs, stamps a kiss to Finn's nape, and obeys. 

 

 

  
  
  



End file.
